Note from the Author: Shit. It's been.uh, a long time since I updated this.
I'm gonna have to site pure an unadulterated guilt in conjunction with a
bad day that made me actually sit down and pound it out. There's actually a
lot more, but I tend to break these chaps down into anywhere from 10-15
page increments (especially after the last chap which was freaking 30
pages). Anyway, technical notes aside, if you don't remember from the
previous chapter Cloud and Reno were having a nice little sit down over gin
and their partnership has once again degenerated into some underhandedness.
As neither side is innocent this chap was fun to play with. While for the
most it's somewhat serious, especially in regards to their personal takes
on the past and impending future, I did throw in the last bit to tease
Meirelle Emeraldeyes, TaoStrife, Interfaceleader and all those who have
kept with it. Thanks as always. ^_-
Also: b/c fanfic.net has some weird changeover that happens when you upload I've had to do some weird stuff to make things go italics or have vowels draw out. "*" these around a word are where italics would be. They imply stress on something or sarcasm. "---" this just means a long vowel or mulling over something. You know, like "MMm----beef." Ha. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------------------------
Chapter 8 (tho the bar says Chapter 9)
Tit-for-Tat
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------------------------
Some time later...
"No." Cloud slurred a bit. "S'not like that at all. Tifa's got a great personality."
"Bedroom personality maybe---"
Reno took another swig of his beer. Cloud flushed pink, but it might have been the immediate effect of the Meteor that he downed in one gulp. AVALANCHE's leader, being serious in all his duties, world saving and other, also took his drinking like a military operation. Drinks were downed and stacked like trophies on the table. In lieu of actual fighting he seemed content to socially acceptable levels of combat. He was definitely on his way to drunk though, and certainly more social, but as for spilling truth Reno was beginning to despair of the serum ever taking effect. Hell, alcohol might go further than any drug here. Already they had managed a conversation of about five lines without death threats and glares, all due to the gracious effects of liquor. And a damned lot of it too! Insider info might not be out of the question here. If only he didn't fall prey to the drink too. Reno smiled foolishly at the thought and Cloud returned it with the manic grin of one who is two shots away from doing a table dance. Not that Reno would discourage that---but info might be more useful. Still---
Lighting up a cigarette Reno took the opportunity to covertly count the drinks on the table. Several had been cleared already but going by what was still there he thought Cloud might have passed him by a shot and half an Odin's Rain. He sniffed surreptitiously, but there was a grudging respect in it. Apparently the only time Strife was even remotely tolerable was when he drank. Something to remember in that. He seemed to recall that Tseng had made a similar comment years ago about his own lack of social skills. No point in dredging up that memory though. Those were better washed away the past than recall each biting loss, every drop of blood spilt in trusting someone to be there. Not to die.
He looked up to find Cloud studying him through hazy blue eyes.
"You look like someone just died," the blond intoned around the moist rim of a beer bottle.
Reno smiled faintly. "Just thinking about how much it sucks to be of SOLDIER makeup is all," he said. "Can't get properly drunk on this shite anymore."
Cloud nodded. He held up the empty glass he had just finished. "Barely a shiver," he said. "You start to feel it and then it slips away from you. Dead sober in no time."
Reno raised an eyebrow.
"Hardly a burn to mark its passage." Cloud added with a half-smile. "I could drink ten of these and shrug them off like it was nothing. Tifa used to throw her hands up until she realized that it really didn't do anything. You can't drink casually once you're SOLDIER."
"Amen to that," said the redhead. They toasted their empty glasses and signaled for more.
"So---," said Reno once Mina had brought a refresher round. "Were you really in Midgar for the space program?"
Cloud shrugged. "Cid asked me to do it, but I think it was mainly because he's worried that I might get bored."
"Bored huh?" said Reno glancing sideways at the white undersides of Cloud's arms.
"No one to save? No ancients to rescue?"
Cloud attempted a menacing look but failed miserably.
"She was part of the program you know," Reno volunteered, surprised at his own forthcoming.
"?"
"Aeris was a part of the program. We'd studied her before you know. At least that's what Hojo's records show."
"Aeris was no part of that freak show," Cloud grated.
"She was. We only had two ancients to study. Or, rather Hojo did," Reno amended when he noticed Cloud's rather dangerous looking grip on an empty beer bottle.
"She didn't know of course. Hojo was always secretive like that. Most people he studied didn't even." Reno trailed off as fresh recollection at his name on that list surfaced.
Cloud either seemed to understand or just tactfully avoided saying the obvious. Reno suspected he was just tipped past caring.
"Well." Reno finished lamely.
"What're *you* trying to do in Midgar?" Cloud said abruptly, voice surprisingly free of botched vowels and dragged-out consonants.
"What---?" The question caught him off guard. "What's anyone trying to do?" he countered. "We're picking up the pieces. Living. That's what we're doing."
"That city should just---"
"Should what? Stop being?" Reno slammed his drink down on the table. "It's a shit hole I know. Things die there and you don't know till the smell starts." He leaned across the table, face inches from Cloud's.
"At least we stayed."
"I have no obligation to Midgar," Cloud said evenly.
"The hell you don't. Reeve is there. He's Cait Sith right? Well, sort of, but he was one of you. You guys started this crap when you bombed the reactor. Where the hell is Barret now huh? He's lounging in North Corel. Tifa? You an' her are laying easy in Costa del Sol. Cid? Rocket town. Vincent? Who the fuck knows! But the point is, none of you stayed to deal with the mess you left."
"You helped make it!" Cloud shouted. "Who's ShinRa here TURK?!"
The two men were practically out of their seats, muscles quivering with adrenaline, empty bottles spinning on that table from the impact of their hands.
"Break my bar and you both die," said a pleasant voice from behind them. Jaz towered over the table, a rather unpleasant looking rifle in her hand. The bar itself was still busy, but only hushed voices permeated the charged silence. Stares were directed their way and the immediate area around them was clear of people. A sheepish sort of acquiescence was adopted by both men and they sat carefully back down in their chairs.
"No problem here," Reno was saying. Jaz looked at Cloud who opened his blue eyes wide and feigned innocence. The bartender favored him with a look that was more amused than angry.
"You're cute, but innocent is not how I'd describe you."
Cloud blinked at her.
"Don't bother," Reno interjected. "Our boy here is practically asexual Jaz."
"I dunno," she said with a leer. "He looks like a bed warmer to me."
"Maybe better than some," she added. Reno scowled, Cloud looked pleased.
The redhead snorted into his drink. "He's taken anyway."
Jaz looked unperturbed, but Cloud shrugged almost apologetically. The bar owner sighed and lowered her gun.
"Well, just don't go busting up my place Reno."
"How's it always my fault?!" the redhead groused.
"Because you're always present and for some reason that makes people want to kill. Including myself, so either behave or take it outside. For good."
As she left Cloud eyed Reno over his glass, bright blue eyes narrow with suppressed laughter.
"Were you just----.*scolded*?"
The Turk snatched Cloud's drink and took a defiant swig.
"We have a history is all."
"So I gathered."
"Ha," was all the Turk could think to say. Cloud signaled the waitress for another round. When the drinks arrived he lined them up neatly into a row that divided the table.
"I thought we might play a game," AVALANCHE's leader said. "Since you won't seem to give up on interrogating me."
Reno paused in mid sip. If he didn't know better he'd say Strife was plotting something, which in itself was disturbing. He was going to have to reassess the other man's drinking level, not to mention mental makeup, if the blond kept showing lucid moments of actual planning. He himself was not quite seeing clearly at this point, SOLDIER tolerance or no. Strife had to be feeling the same. And what about the serum? Maybe he'd botched the heating, but he didn't think so. Sooner or later he was going to feel it and when that happened---
"Reno."
"Mmm---? Sorry, just thinking. What kinda game you have in mind Strife?"
"Q & A."
"Q & A?" Reno grinned, shark-like in its intensity. "I'm up for that. How's it work?"
The blond traced the rim of one glass. "Each drink represents one question. The way I see it, neither of us is willing to share unless there's a fair trade. So, for each drink you answer a question. If you decide not to answer you drink your own and the one opposite."
"So, truth through punishment?" Reno said, adding up the shots with calculating eyes. Six shots, a wide range of possibilities.
"Something like that," said Cloud with a faint smile, the thin line of white teeth in stark contrast to his flushed face.
"Interesting. Alright, question one," Reno said, lifting a shot in toast. "What happened in Nibelheim?"
There was a pause where Reno thought Cloud was going to take his shot from him and avoid it entirely. Instead the blond stared into the golden liquid a moment and pursed his lips.
"Be more specific. That's a broad question."
"Most of your records were wiped from headquarters. We have almost zero info from that period. It's like a blackhole in the files and weird shit keeps happening related to that very time. I want to know what Hojo did to you. Sephiroth I can guess, but you, you're a mystery as much the Cetra in some respects. We know you have SOLDIER makeup, but that conflicts with your old files. There's no way your body could have taken the process, but here you are. I want to know how."
Cloud gnawed at his lower lip. "That's the question of century, or at least my life. I can tell you that he did something to me and Zax---but what I don't know exactly. Half of my memory from then is as much a gaping hole as your files. Hell, I hardly remember before that time."
There was---truth, and lie in that reply. Reno was sure of it. But how to separate one from the other?
"I think you owe me another question from that sorry-ass answer."
"Shoot."
"You and Zax. What's that about?"
Cloud blanched, though surely he had expected it.
"We were friends, though you might say he was more an older brother sort."
"I'm sure," Reno said dryly.
"He, well, he was my superior in ShinRa, but he also seemed to think he could make something out of me. As the files say, I couldn't get into SOLDIER right off the bat, but Zax was sure I could make it."
Reno sipped at the shot he was holding without thinking. Liquid like brittle ice climbed the back of his throat then melted into a sigh. He had to clear his throat to continue.
"Zax trained you then?"
Cloud shook his head. "He gave me tips, took me to the bar with him. Tried to keep me out of trouble."
Reno narrowed his eyes slightly. *This* was where he wanted to get. Strife before the experiments or whatever. There was just something nagging at him. Something missing from the bigger picture. If he pressed him on his less recent past instead of the Nibelheim incident he might actually get something more valuable.
Casually Reno sipped at the shot again.
"So Zax was a close friend? You two know each other previously?"
Cloud opened his mouth, then shut it so abruptly that Reno nearly started into his shot glass.
"Nice try Turk. No freebies. My turn."
The ex-SOLDIER picked up the shot in front of him, turning it around and around under the light.
"In that packet that Reeve prepared, your name was on a long list of names. I read the summary, but what I want to know is how you're involved."
"Hell. Then you know as much as me. You think I knew *my* name was on that list? If I had had any idea when Hojo was still alive I'd of-"
"You'd of done nothing," Cloud said flatly.
Reno shifted his position and leaned aggressively across the table.
"I'd of found out what he was up to then shoved those findings up his ass."
"Hojo had a reputation for interpreting company resources at his disposal to include employees. I hear there was a high turnover for personnel. Even Turks. "
"Bullshit! Hojo may have experimented on ShinRa's own dog but no Turk is that easy! Where are getting this crap from?"
Cloud chewed his lip. "From someone who'd know pretty well. And from what he told me they knew."
"They? As in ShinRa?"
"ShinRa, the board---and the head of the TURKS."
Reno gave Cloud such a look that the other man set down the shot and placed both hands lightly on the table top. A conciliatory gesture. It pissed him off even more.
He let the words cycle through his head at light speed, made a connection, and tried a different route.
"Wait a sec. Someone who'd know---you mean Valentine don't you?"
The other man nodded.
"He was before my time. Before Tseng's."
Cloud's steady look was unchanged in its suspicion. That look said, it's happened before, it happened again. You just won't admit it.
He ground his back teeth and tried to keep it out of his face.
Cloud continued. "I didn't actually expect you to know exactly what was going on, but are you saying you didn't have a clue?"
"If I didn't know, no one knew."
"Mmm---"
"My turn," Reno asserted, raising the glass.
"Why are *you* going to Nibelheim?"
There was no hesitation. Cloud plucked Reno's shot from his grasp and drank it, then finished off one of the three in front of him. It seemed AVALANCHE's leader was still pretty set on being an ass about that subject.
Reno scowled. "I think your game sucks Strife."
Cloud shrugged, "We don't have to continue."
Somehow that implied that Strife had gotten what he was looking for while all Reno had was an affirmation in his gut that something was off. As to what that might be he still had nothing concrete. He felt played but in what way he also didn't know. Damned if he was farther behind than before!
"If we're gonna do this you have to at least play too."
"I'm going by the rules."
"Fuck that. Your rules suck too. Just answer a question for once."
Cloud shrugged. "Shoot."
"Fine. There was a minor note in one of the reports that we do have on you before Nibelheim. It mentions disciplinary action. Wanna tell me about it?"
Blue-green eyes regarded his question with a slight frown. Puzzlement maybe.
"Not really, but what I remember isn't much either." Cloud pushed the shot around on the table with the inside of his wrist. The Mako blue eyes strayed right and he said,
"There was a fight. Just a disagreement of sorts."
Reno studied him carefully.
"A fight between you and other troops?"
"Nothing major, just a scuffle. Don't even think anyone was seriously hurt."
Reno nodded, satisfaction hidden under veiled eyes.
Got you Strife. Caught you in a lie. Even if your body language wasn't screaming falsehood I've read that report and I can't say I believe it was merely a 'scuffle'. There was hospital time, and it wasn't for you. You stabbed a guy. To me that says it was a little more serious than you're letting on.
"I think it also mentions that Zax bailed you out."
"Yeah. So?"
Reno shrugged. "I'm just trying to figure this guy out. You downplay your connection with him but he obviously figured in your life. What's the deal?"
"I don't understand why you keep asking me about him. I thought you wanted to know more about Nibelheim or whatever might be there. I said before that Zax and I were friends. What more do you want?"
*The bigger picture*, Reno thought. *Zax and Sephiroth were partners, you were a grunt. I'll give that from what I do know about Zax he seemed like a nice guy, but why you? Not then, but after Nibelheim. I don't know whether or not it was because you both were prisoners at the same time and he felt responsible for you or something else entirely, but I do suspect that Zax brought you out of there at all costs for another reason. And I'll be* damned* if* you* don't know why.*
Cloud was staring at him, but there was no indication that he was following the same line as Reno's thoughts. The Turk made a big show of sighing and shrugging. He motioned to the shots, indicating Cloud's turn, but the blond was still staring straight ahead. His eyes were very bright in the shadows of his face.
"Strife?"
The other man's voice came out thick and slow.
"What makes you think I had anything to do with the Recall Project?"
Reno stared hard. "What?"
Cloud's gaze was intense but unfocused. "The Project wasn't in my jurisdiction." His tanned face strained for a moment, the fine brows coming together in a "V" of what seemed to be pain. He shuddered once and put a hand to his face.
"Strife?"
No reaction to the question, just a feeling of intense uneasiness. Perhaps in some kind of weird parallel of sympathy pain that sometimes happens when a person near you complains of headache or migraines Reno felt a jolt of heat flare briefly between his own eyes, followed by audible chirping in his ears like little voices on acid. He tried to ignore them and focus on Cloud who was, while not being forthcoming about the strange pause or spoken words, suddenly still. Instead of answering he calmly leaned forward, took Reno's shot from out of his hand and downed it in one gulp. The Turk could think of nothing to say. He picked up one of Cloud's drinks and drank that instead.
They continued like this for a time, eyes meeting across the table in brief glances. Reno's were puzzled, Cloud's were---knowing? Laughing? For some reason Reno couldn't bring himself to speak. He just sat there and mimicked Cloud's steady progression through drinks. The buzz in his ears got worse but his vision seemed to clear. Something was definitely not the same.
He looked at Cloud sitting there, game apparently forgotten, just smiling at him with a weird little Cheshire-like grin. Totally unlike him.
Totally unlike him--- Reno gave a start. That's what was bothering him. When Cloud had first sat down it was more like the way an edgy bird might perch, ready to move, loathe to relax. Now, the man that sat opposite was more solid somehow. More a part of the knotted wood beneath the fingers that drummed across the table in a complicated tattoo. Solid, collected. The atmosphere itself was heavy like a gravity spell fresh off someone's lips. The air dense and tingly, but then again that could just be the alcohol doing its job.
He blew a waft of smoke from the fresh lit cigarette between slightly parted lips and shook off a shudder of his own. The sensation grew so bad though that he set his drink down and rubbed both arms vigorously. Cloud chose this moment to look up again with that same strange half smile. It was too self-ironic to be his. Their eyes met a little more forcibly and Cloud finally turned those luminescent eyes away with a shake of the head. When he brought them back to bear on Reno's face they were startlingly brown with little halos of mako green around the edges.
A voice, deeper than Cloud's and fairly loaded with amusement said, "Something on my face?"
Reno gaped, cigarette falling out of his mouth and then end over end into a puddle of condensation where it snuffed out.
Cloud spoke again with head slightly cocked, a thin line of white teeth showing.
"Better get used to it," he said and laughed, but it was someone else's laugh entirely. It was warm and rich, but undeniably weird coming from Cloud's mouth. Reno was about to push back from the table when the other man shook his head again and those blue-green eyes returned, swimming in a liquor haze.
"What?" He asked, light slur and familiar brittle smile.
The Turk frowned, witnessed the room vibrate in time to whatever music Jaz had roaring and dispassionately watched the beer bottle in front of him multiply into fuzzy replicas. He passed a hand in front of his face and said,
"I think I'm drunk."
Cloud considered this while swaying on his own stool.
"I think I am too."
* * * * * * *
From a discreet corner of the bar, covered in more shadows than glow from the dim overhead lighting, sat a man who was watching the pair of fighters from afar very intently. He had been there for longer than they and while no surprise registered on his face at all when each had entered he did find himself attentive to their actions.
He marked with cold precision their weapons or seemingly lack thereof. He counted the bottles and glasses methodically, did sums in his head and came to the conclusion that both were due for a bad day after. And while he watched them he had to ask himself why were they there, and why together? On any other occasion he could care less but being out of loop for such a protracted amount of time made him feel uncertain. Not a feeling he enjoyed.
Cloud, it seemed, had made a new friend. A very dangerous friend. At least, one to look out for, thought Vincent Valentine.
He reclined in his chair and let the long strands of black hair hide the pale glow of his face from the crowd. All around him they moved, danced, jostled, and for the most part got in his line of sight. When one or another actually noticed the red-cloaked man sitting there he gave them such a look that space tended to clear in his immediate area by some kind of transmitted tacit agreement. He found that he only liked their company insofar as they didn't try to engage him in any way. Funny that he should come to a bar at all given his preference for quiet solitude, but even he, monster that he was, needed to be reaffirmed that there were living, happy people out there.
An obviously drunk man passed him and incredibly, blew him a kiss.
Vincent fingered his gun. Maybe too happy---
There was commotion suddenly and Vincent leaned forward in his chair to get a better look. As had the past three commotions been, this one was also Cloud-Turk related. They seemed to be arguing heatedly about something. Their shouts were lost in the babble of the crowd but the sweeping gestures from the Turk and defensive, arms-crossed reply from Cloud spoke of a challenge.
Vincent took a sip from his drink without ever loosing his tab on the two who were still shouting. It didn't seem to be a fight---yet. There were no fighting stances or other overt battle-type actions. Cloud *was* however, pounding on the table top and pointing at his own chest aggressively.
Vincent was uncertain of how to translate that, or the Turks's own response, which was to draw up a chair next to Cloud and begin pounding on that.
Now, he had never considered himself the planning or thinking member of AVALANCHE but he knew he wasn't deficient in his mental capabilities. Just because he had been locked in a coffin for a considerable amount of time and had a demon riding shotgun in his brain didn't mean he couldn't piece things together. What he didn't understand though was why on the planet Cloud was stepping up onto the chair. And by the Cetra, why was the Turk handing him a large denomination of gil? Could this be--- Was it possible-- -?
He frowned and pushed up out of his chair, feeling that this time, he had to do something before things got dire. Dire as only table dances got.
* * * * * * *
End Note: Some will note with satisfaction that even though a considerable amount of time has passed I have not forgotten the, er, table dance. Others will note with extreme ire that while I have not forgotten it I still haven't done it and therefore deserve wrath and ass kicking all around. I at least hope that you are either annoyed or intrigued enough to continue reading what I do put up and I look forward to any response, even the death threats. Also, questions and letting me know of any mistakes are very welcome because I realized last night that I haven't played this game in about 4 years or so and aside from my gut feelings on the character's emotional status I'm really just making most of this shite up. So please please feel free to correct me and I will make the appropriate changes and thank you. Ja for now.
-Moira
Also: b/c fanfic.net has some weird changeover that happens when you upload I've had to do some weird stuff to make things go italics or have vowels draw out. "*" these around a word are where italics would be. They imply stress on something or sarcasm. "---" this just means a long vowel or mulling over something. You know, like "MMm----beef." Ha. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------------------------
Chapter 8 (tho the bar says Chapter 9)
Tit-for-Tat
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------------------------
Some time later...
"No." Cloud slurred a bit. "S'not like that at all. Tifa's got a great personality."
"Bedroom personality maybe---"
Reno took another swig of his beer. Cloud flushed pink, but it might have been the immediate effect of the Meteor that he downed in one gulp. AVALANCHE's leader, being serious in all his duties, world saving and other, also took his drinking like a military operation. Drinks were downed and stacked like trophies on the table. In lieu of actual fighting he seemed content to socially acceptable levels of combat. He was definitely on his way to drunk though, and certainly more social, but as for spilling truth Reno was beginning to despair of the serum ever taking effect. Hell, alcohol might go further than any drug here. Already they had managed a conversation of about five lines without death threats and glares, all due to the gracious effects of liquor. And a damned lot of it too! Insider info might not be out of the question here. If only he didn't fall prey to the drink too. Reno smiled foolishly at the thought and Cloud returned it with the manic grin of one who is two shots away from doing a table dance. Not that Reno would discourage that---but info might be more useful. Still---
Lighting up a cigarette Reno took the opportunity to covertly count the drinks on the table. Several had been cleared already but going by what was still there he thought Cloud might have passed him by a shot and half an Odin's Rain. He sniffed surreptitiously, but there was a grudging respect in it. Apparently the only time Strife was even remotely tolerable was when he drank. Something to remember in that. He seemed to recall that Tseng had made a similar comment years ago about his own lack of social skills. No point in dredging up that memory though. Those were better washed away the past than recall each biting loss, every drop of blood spilt in trusting someone to be there. Not to die.
He looked up to find Cloud studying him through hazy blue eyes.
"You look like someone just died," the blond intoned around the moist rim of a beer bottle.
Reno smiled faintly. "Just thinking about how much it sucks to be of SOLDIER makeup is all," he said. "Can't get properly drunk on this shite anymore."
Cloud nodded. He held up the empty glass he had just finished. "Barely a shiver," he said. "You start to feel it and then it slips away from you. Dead sober in no time."
Reno raised an eyebrow.
"Hardly a burn to mark its passage." Cloud added with a half-smile. "I could drink ten of these and shrug them off like it was nothing. Tifa used to throw her hands up until she realized that it really didn't do anything. You can't drink casually once you're SOLDIER."
"Amen to that," said the redhead. They toasted their empty glasses and signaled for more.
"So---," said Reno once Mina had brought a refresher round. "Were you really in Midgar for the space program?"
Cloud shrugged. "Cid asked me to do it, but I think it was mainly because he's worried that I might get bored."
"Bored huh?" said Reno glancing sideways at the white undersides of Cloud's arms.
"No one to save? No ancients to rescue?"
Cloud attempted a menacing look but failed miserably.
"She was part of the program you know," Reno volunteered, surprised at his own forthcoming.
"?"
"Aeris was a part of the program. We'd studied her before you know. At least that's what Hojo's records show."
"Aeris was no part of that freak show," Cloud grated.
"She was. We only had two ancients to study. Or, rather Hojo did," Reno amended when he noticed Cloud's rather dangerous looking grip on an empty beer bottle.
"She didn't know of course. Hojo was always secretive like that. Most people he studied didn't even." Reno trailed off as fresh recollection at his name on that list surfaced.
Cloud either seemed to understand or just tactfully avoided saying the obvious. Reno suspected he was just tipped past caring.
"Well." Reno finished lamely.
"What're *you* trying to do in Midgar?" Cloud said abruptly, voice surprisingly free of botched vowels and dragged-out consonants.
"What---?" The question caught him off guard. "What's anyone trying to do?" he countered. "We're picking up the pieces. Living. That's what we're doing."
"That city should just---"
"Should what? Stop being?" Reno slammed his drink down on the table. "It's a shit hole I know. Things die there and you don't know till the smell starts." He leaned across the table, face inches from Cloud's.
"At least we stayed."
"I have no obligation to Midgar," Cloud said evenly.
"The hell you don't. Reeve is there. He's Cait Sith right? Well, sort of, but he was one of you. You guys started this crap when you bombed the reactor. Where the hell is Barret now huh? He's lounging in North Corel. Tifa? You an' her are laying easy in Costa del Sol. Cid? Rocket town. Vincent? Who the fuck knows! But the point is, none of you stayed to deal with the mess you left."
"You helped make it!" Cloud shouted. "Who's ShinRa here TURK?!"
The two men were practically out of their seats, muscles quivering with adrenaline, empty bottles spinning on that table from the impact of their hands.
"Break my bar and you both die," said a pleasant voice from behind them. Jaz towered over the table, a rather unpleasant looking rifle in her hand. The bar itself was still busy, but only hushed voices permeated the charged silence. Stares were directed their way and the immediate area around them was clear of people. A sheepish sort of acquiescence was adopted by both men and they sat carefully back down in their chairs.
"No problem here," Reno was saying. Jaz looked at Cloud who opened his blue eyes wide and feigned innocence. The bartender favored him with a look that was more amused than angry.
"You're cute, but innocent is not how I'd describe you."
Cloud blinked at her.
"Don't bother," Reno interjected. "Our boy here is practically asexual Jaz."
"I dunno," she said with a leer. "He looks like a bed warmer to me."
"Maybe better than some," she added. Reno scowled, Cloud looked pleased.
The redhead snorted into his drink. "He's taken anyway."
Jaz looked unperturbed, but Cloud shrugged almost apologetically. The bar owner sighed and lowered her gun.
"Well, just don't go busting up my place Reno."
"How's it always my fault?!" the redhead groused.
"Because you're always present and for some reason that makes people want to kill. Including myself, so either behave or take it outside. For good."
As she left Cloud eyed Reno over his glass, bright blue eyes narrow with suppressed laughter.
"Were you just----.*scolded*?"
The Turk snatched Cloud's drink and took a defiant swig.
"We have a history is all."
"So I gathered."
"Ha," was all the Turk could think to say. Cloud signaled the waitress for another round. When the drinks arrived he lined them up neatly into a row that divided the table.
"I thought we might play a game," AVALANCHE's leader said. "Since you won't seem to give up on interrogating me."
Reno paused in mid sip. If he didn't know better he'd say Strife was plotting something, which in itself was disturbing. He was going to have to reassess the other man's drinking level, not to mention mental makeup, if the blond kept showing lucid moments of actual planning. He himself was not quite seeing clearly at this point, SOLDIER tolerance or no. Strife had to be feeling the same. And what about the serum? Maybe he'd botched the heating, but he didn't think so. Sooner or later he was going to feel it and when that happened---
"Reno."
"Mmm---? Sorry, just thinking. What kinda game you have in mind Strife?"
"Q & A."
"Q & A?" Reno grinned, shark-like in its intensity. "I'm up for that. How's it work?"
The blond traced the rim of one glass. "Each drink represents one question. The way I see it, neither of us is willing to share unless there's a fair trade. So, for each drink you answer a question. If you decide not to answer you drink your own and the one opposite."
"So, truth through punishment?" Reno said, adding up the shots with calculating eyes. Six shots, a wide range of possibilities.
"Something like that," said Cloud with a faint smile, the thin line of white teeth in stark contrast to his flushed face.
"Interesting. Alright, question one," Reno said, lifting a shot in toast. "What happened in Nibelheim?"
There was a pause where Reno thought Cloud was going to take his shot from him and avoid it entirely. Instead the blond stared into the golden liquid a moment and pursed his lips.
"Be more specific. That's a broad question."
"Most of your records were wiped from headquarters. We have almost zero info from that period. It's like a blackhole in the files and weird shit keeps happening related to that very time. I want to know what Hojo did to you. Sephiroth I can guess, but you, you're a mystery as much the Cetra in some respects. We know you have SOLDIER makeup, but that conflicts with your old files. There's no way your body could have taken the process, but here you are. I want to know how."
Cloud gnawed at his lower lip. "That's the question of century, or at least my life. I can tell you that he did something to me and Zax---but what I don't know exactly. Half of my memory from then is as much a gaping hole as your files. Hell, I hardly remember before that time."
There was---truth, and lie in that reply. Reno was sure of it. But how to separate one from the other?
"I think you owe me another question from that sorry-ass answer."
"Shoot."
"You and Zax. What's that about?"
Cloud blanched, though surely he had expected it.
"We were friends, though you might say he was more an older brother sort."
"I'm sure," Reno said dryly.
"He, well, he was my superior in ShinRa, but he also seemed to think he could make something out of me. As the files say, I couldn't get into SOLDIER right off the bat, but Zax was sure I could make it."
Reno sipped at the shot he was holding without thinking. Liquid like brittle ice climbed the back of his throat then melted into a sigh. He had to clear his throat to continue.
"Zax trained you then?"
Cloud shook his head. "He gave me tips, took me to the bar with him. Tried to keep me out of trouble."
Reno narrowed his eyes slightly. *This* was where he wanted to get. Strife before the experiments or whatever. There was just something nagging at him. Something missing from the bigger picture. If he pressed him on his less recent past instead of the Nibelheim incident he might actually get something more valuable.
Casually Reno sipped at the shot again.
"So Zax was a close friend? You two know each other previously?"
Cloud opened his mouth, then shut it so abruptly that Reno nearly started into his shot glass.
"Nice try Turk. No freebies. My turn."
The ex-SOLDIER picked up the shot in front of him, turning it around and around under the light.
"In that packet that Reeve prepared, your name was on a long list of names. I read the summary, but what I want to know is how you're involved."
"Hell. Then you know as much as me. You think I knew *my* name was on that list? If I had had any idea when Hojo was still alive I'd of-"
"You'd of done nothing," Cloud said flatly.
Reno shifted his position and leaned aggressively across the table.
"I'd of found out what he was up to then shoved those findings up his ass."
"Hojo had a reputation for interpreting company resources at his disposal to include employees. I hear there was a high turnover for personnel. Even Turks. "
"Bullshit! Hojo may have experimented on ShinRa's own dog but no Turk is that easy! Where are getting this crap from?"
Cloud chewed his lip. "From someone who'd know pretty well. And from what he told me they knew."
"They? As in ShinRa?"
"ShinRa, the board---and the head of the TURKS."
Reno gave Cloud such a look that the other man set down the shot and placed both hands lightly on the table top. A conciliatory gesture. It pissed him off even more.
He let the words cycle through his head at light speed, made a connection, and tried a different route.
"Wait a sec. Someone who'd know---you mean Valentine don't you?"
The other man nodded.
"He was before my time. Before Tseng's."
Cloud's steady look was unchanged in its suspicion. That look said, it's happened before, it happened again. You just won't admit it.
He ground his back teeth and tried to keep it out of his face.
Cloud continued. "I didn't actually expect you to know exactly what was going on, but are you saying you didn't have a clue?"
"If I didn't know, no one knew."
"Mmm---"
"My turn," Reno asserted, raising the glass.
"Why are *you* going to Nibelheim?"
There was no hesitation. Cloud plucked Reno's shot from his grasp and drank it, then finished off one of the three in front of him. It seemed AVALANCHE's leader was still pretty set on being an ass about that subject.
Reno scowled. "I think your game sucks Strife."
Cloud shrugged, "We don't have to continue."
Somehow that implied that Strife had gotten what he was looking for while all Reno had was an affirmation in his gut that something was off. As to what that might be he still had nothing concrete. He felt played but in what way he also didn't know. Damned if he was farther behind than before!
"If we're gonna do this you have to at least play too."
"I'm going by the rules."
"Fuck that. Your rules suck too. Just answer a question for once."
Cloud shrugged. "Shoot."
"Fine. There was a minor note in one of the reports that we do have on you before Nibelheim. It mentions disciplinary action. Wanna tell me about it?"
Blue-green eyes regarded his question with a slight frown. Puzzlement maybe.
"Not really, but what I remember isn't much either." Cloud pushed the shot around on the table with the inside of his wrist. The Mako blue eyes strayed right and he said,
"There was a fight. Just a disagreement of sorts."
Reno studied him carefully.
"A fight between you and other troops?"
"Nothing major, just a scuffle. Don't even think anyone was seriously hurt."
Reno nodded, satisfaction hidden under veiled eyes.
Got you Strife. Caught you in a lie. Even if your body language wasn't screaming falsehood I've read that report and I can't say I believe it was merely a 'scuffle'. There was hospital time, and it wasn't for you. You stabbed a guy. To me that says it was a little more serious than you're letting on.
"I think it also mentions that Zax bailed you out."
"Yeah. So?"
Reno shrugged. "I'm just trying to figure this guy out. You downplay your connection with him but he obviously figured in your life. What's the deal?"
"I don't understand why you keep asking me about him. I thought you wanted to know more about Nibelheim or whatever might be there. I said before that Zax and I were friends. What more do you want?"
*The bigger picture*, Reno thought. *Zax and Sephiroth were partners, you were a grunt. I'll give that from what I do know about Zax he seemed like a nice guy, but why you? Not then, but after Nibelheim. I don't know whether or not it was because you both were prisoners at the same time and he felt responsible for you or something else entirely, but I do suspect that Zax brought you out of there at all costs for another reason. And I'll be* damned* if* you* don't know why.*
Cloud was staring at him, but there was no indication that he was following the same line as Reno's thoughts. The Turk made a big show of sighing and shrugging. He motioned to the shots, indicating Cloud's turn, but the blond was still staring straight ahead. His eyes were very bright in the shadows of his face.
"Strife?"
The other man's voice came out thick and slow.
"What makes you think I had anything to do with the Recall Project?"
Reno stared hard. "What?"
Cloud's gaze was intense but unfocused. "The Project wasn't in my jurisdiction." His tanned face strained for a moment, the fine brows coming together in a "V" of what seemed to be pain. He shuddered once and put a hand to his face.
"Strife?"
No reaction to the question, just a feeling of intense uneasiness. Perhaps in some kind of weird parallel of sympathy pain that sometimes happens when a person near you complains of headache or migraines Reno felt a jolt of heat flare briefly between his own eyes, followed by audible chirping in his ears like little voices on acid. He tried to ignore them and focus on Cloud who was, while not being forthcoming about the strange pause or spoken words, suddenly still. Instead of answering he calmly leaned forward, took Reno's shot from out of his hand and downed it in one gulp. The Turk could think of nothing to say. He picked up one of Cloud's drinks and drank that instead.
They continued like this for a time, eyes meeting across the table in brief glances. Reno's were puzzled, Cloud's were---knowing? Laughing? For some reason Reno couldn't bring himself to speak. He just sat there and mimicked Cloud's steady progression through drinks. The buzz in his ears got worse but his vision seemed to clear. Something was definitely not the same.
He looked at Cloud sitting there, game apparently forgotten, just smiling at him with a weird little Cheshire-like grin. Totally unlike him.
Totally unlike him--- Reno gave a start. That's what was bothering him. When Cloud had first sat down it was more like the way an edgy bird might perch, ready to move, loathe to relax. Now, the man that sat opposite was more solid somehow. More a part of the knotted wood beneath the fingers that drummed across the table in a complicated tattoo. Solid, collected. The atmosphere itself was heavy like a gravity spell fresh off someone's lips. The air dense and tingly, but then again that could just be the alcohol doing its job.
He blew a waft of smoke from the fresh lit cigarette between slightly parted lips and shook off a shudder of his own. The sensation grew so bad though that he set his drink down and rubbed both arms vigorously. Cloud chose this moment to look up again with that same strange half smile. It was too self-ironic to be his. Their eyes met a little more forcibly and Cloud finally turned those luminescent eyes away with a shake of the head. When he brought them back to bear on Reno's face they were startlingly brown with little halos of mako green around the edges.
A voice, deeper than Cloud's and fairly loaded with amusement said, "Something on my face?"
Reno gaped, cigarette falling out of his mouth and then end over end into a puddle of condensation where it snuffed out.
Cloud spoke again with head slightly cocked, a thin line of white teeth showing.
"Better get used to it," he said and laughed, but it was someone else's laugh entirely. It was warm and rich, but undeniably weird coming from Cloud's mouth. Reno was about to push back from the table when the other man shook his head again and those blue-green eyes returned, swimming in a liquor haze.
"What?" He asked, light slur and familiar brittle smile.
The Turk frowned, witnessed the room vibrate in time to whatever music Jaz had roaring and dispassionately watched the beer bottle in front of him multiply into fuzzy replicas. He passed a hand in front of his face and said,
"I think I'm drunk."
Cloud considered this while swaying on his own stool.
"I think I am too."
* * * * * * *
From a discreet corner of the bar, covered in more shadows than glow from the dim overhead lighting, sat a man who was watching the pair of fighters from afar very intently. He had been there for longer than they and while no surprise registered on his face at all when each had entered he did find himself attentive to their actions.
He marked with cold precision their weapons or seemingly lack thereof. He counted the bottles and glasses methodically, did sums in his head and came to the conclusion that both were due for a bad day after. And while he watched them he had to ask himself why were they there, and why together? On any other occasion he could care less but being out of loop for such a protracted amount of time made him feel uncertain. Not a feeling he enjoyed.
Cloud, it seemed, had made a new friend. A very dangerous friend. At least, one to look out for, thought Vincent Valentine.
He reclined in his chair and let the long strands of black hair hide the pale glow of his face from the crowd. All around him they moved, danced, jostled, and for the most part got in his line of sight. When one or another actually noticed the red-cloaked man sitting there he gave them such a look that space tended to clear in his immediate area by some kind of transmitted tacit agreement. He found that he only liked their company insofar as they didn't try to engage him in any way. Funny that he should come to a bar at all given his preference for quiet solitude, but even he, monster that he was, needed to be reaffirmed that there were living, happy people out there.
An obviously drunk man passed him and incredibly, blew him a kiss.
Vincent fingered his gun. Maybe too happy---
There was commotion suddenly and Vincent leaned forward in his chair to get a better look. As had the past three commotions been, this one was also Cloud-Turk related. They seemed to be arguing heatedly about something. Their shouts were lost in the babble of the crowd but the sweeping gestures from the Turk and defensive, arms-crossed reply from Cloud spoke of a challenge.
Vincent took a sip from his drink without ever loosing his tab on the two who were still shouting. It didn't seem to be a fight---yet. There were no fighting stances or other overt battle-type actions. Cloud *was* however, pounding on the table top and pointing at his own chest aggressively.
Vincent was uncertain of how to translate that, or the Turks's own response, which was to draw up a chair next to Cloud and begin pounding on that.
Now, he had never considered himself the planning or thinking member of AVALANCHE but he knew he wasn't deficient in his mental capabilities. Just because he had been locked in a coffin for a considerable amount of time and had a demon riding shotgun in his brain didn't mean he couldn't piece things together. What he didn't understand though was why on the planet Cloud was stepping up onto the chair. And by the Cetra, why was the Turk handing him a large denomination of gil? Could this be--- Was it possible-- -?
He frowned and pushed up out of his chair, feeling that this time, he had to do something before things got dire. Dire as only table dances got.
* * * * * * *
End Note: Some will note with satisfaction that even though a considerable amount of time has passed I have not forgotten the, er, table dance. Others will note with extreme ire that while I have not forgotten it I still haven't done it and therefore deserve wrath and ass kicking all around. I at least hope that you are either annoyed or intrigued enough to continue reading what I do put up and I look forward to any response, even the death threats. Also, questions and letting me know of any mistakes are very welcome because I realized last night that I haven't played this game in about 4 years or so and aside from my gut feelings on the character's emotional status I'm really just making most of this shite up. So please please feel free to correct me and I will make the appropriate changes and thank you. Ja for now.
-Moira